272 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



observation, I should say, at least a couple of hours. Neither 

 did I observe them to be catching insects, or otherwise procuring 

 food. Also I note that, except for this new note (" tir-whi-whi- 

 whi-whi-whi "), and for far the greater part of the time, the birds 

 flew silently. The whole flight up was in silence until the Hawk 

 incident. No cry uttered whilst on the ground. 



At about 5.30 to 6 p.m. I returned to this same bank, distant 

 by about some thousand yards from the place where I had first 

 seen the birds assembled, and watched them dancing. When 

 they had flown off in the evening, they had always gone in one 

 direction (towards where T now was), and I wished to see if they 

 would again settle on the heather here, or fly on, as I supposed they 

 would. Not expecting to find any birds here now, I walked up 

 without precaution, and put a good many up from the same place 

 as this morning. It was a pity, as I should have liked to have 

 noted their behaviour also as the evening came on. I now sat 

 down behind the bank, looking over it in the direction of the 

 amphitheatre. About 7 p.m. (as I suppose), the moon being 

 well risen and bright (full or almost full), the birds began to fly 

 up and over me, heralded by their wailing cry. I counted some 

 twenty odd, but most escaped me in the gloom (the moon not 

 helping much). They showed no inclination to stop at this 

 second place of resort (as I now think it to be), but went right 

 away over the country, flying in twos, threes, or fours at irregular 

 intervals. Compare this with their morning flight in a great 

 flock, silent, or, if not, uttering a quite different note.* 



September 21 st. — Walking to the same place as yesterday, I 

 concealed myself on one side of the bracken-covered part of the 

 bank near the wide gap, and commanding the moor in two 

 directions. This must have been about 5.35 or 40 a.m. 



Bright and clear, but breezy and chilly. Rabbits about, but 

 not very alert, and as I walked along the road I noticed several 

 that sat as if asleep by their burrows. 



Lightening now in the east, but sun not yet visible from behind 

 a wooded hill. 



A small flock of Starlings (first bird-life noted) fly by over 

 the moor. 



* But this morning flight was with little doubt due to the birds having 

 been disturbed, as will shortly appear. 



